The Literary Review
Hypotenuse
We tried to hide it
once we found the
hypotenuse
not knowing what it was
but sure
it was a shortcut
and possibly led to other
shortcuts
but where to hide it?
It was like a computer password
you sought to bury
somewhere no one
could find it
and then
then
you couldn’t find it yourself
we made the mistake of asking the
triangles
once they got wind of our scheme
they folded themselves into
three-cornered hats
the squares bulkheaded us off
claiming their angles were always right
the circles and ellipses just smiled
the cat was out of
the bag
but maybe not
someone suggested ‘the cloud’
we looked up
and there was the crow
asking for directions
- Paul Smith
No Hablo Su Idioma
No hablo much ingles
pero yo entiendo ciertas cosas
no exactamente que
significan las palabras
mas el tono de la voz
‘I’m not responsible for the entire Diaz-Sarmiento family’
‘I don’t even know him’
‘This is what coyotes do’
‘One thousand, one thousand stinking dollars?’
‘Where did he get the first four thousand?’
‘Does your brother want to die in a boxcar?’
Yo entiendo
Yo entiendo ‘no’
- Paul Smith
Kingman
The dust crept in
with the wind
that blew
under the doors
through the peeled caulking
of the window panels
maybe the stack
and settled on
the furniture the countertops
the windowsills and linoleum
the phone calls too
were waiting for me
when I got home
the black phone rang on the empty wall
the wall phone rang and rang and rang
like the dust blew
past my double wide where
no one mopped
no one swept
or answered the rotary phone
while someone else sobbed miles away
till one day
I bought a mop
disconnected the phone
so the sobbing would stop
then gave the mop a whirl
it being more work
and heavier than the dust
and the devious wind
both deceiving me into
thinking that those sobs
came from outside Mojave County
- Paul Smith
Swiffer Sweeper
Before she went away
I got her a Swiffer Sweeper
after that ad on TV
I also think she also wanted
a little more scratch
as we divvied up what came in
each week
but I got her the Swiffer Sweeper
with its little jets
that spray the floor
but you have to
sweep first
I knew that
she loved it
it has plastic bottles of cleaner
you can actually punch a hole
in the empties
and re-use them with tap water
but you do have to buy more of
the spongy mop-like pads
one day the spray thing quit working
I shook it
where its shoulder might have been
If it had a shoulder
nothing
I went on YouTube
and sure enough
you have to buy new batteries
when the original ones give out
now it works fine
when I mop the basement
after sweeping first
I think of her
the batteries don’t cost a lot
they’re only AAA
that’s all it takes
it come back to life
two batteries
two lousy fucking batteries
- Paul Smith
In The Room Next Door
At a funeral
for a civil engineer, like me
a poem was read
about death being nothing at all
Not something that separates us
just going to a room nearby
and waiting for your friends
to join you
I liked the imagery
and the notion
that nothing can tear apart
a true friendship
and imagined being in that other room
waiting
waiting
and then noticing
here, alone in eternity
there are no clocks
and no one in that room I just left
really liked me that much, either
so, without realizing it
the poem comforted me
knowing that although eternity
might get monotonous
we could at least wander around
I could go to the other rooms of eternity
and see who’s there
possibly finding a soulmate
to spin yarns with
and kill some time
so back here in real life
I went into the salon next door where
there was another funeral
so I had a look
at the deceased
stared at him a bit
committed his face to memory
and then listened to a Bible passage
which was all about God
and Exodus 33
where He says no one can see His face
and live
and putting two and two together
I thought maybe the departed saw God’s face
and it killed him
I cast aside that thought
and instead reasoned that I should get to know
as many faces as possible
right here
so that maybe
when one of them walked in
that empty room of mine
in the next world
we could comfort each other
when we finally saw His face
so I introduced myself to this guy’s widow
and stared at her
who knows?
maybe she would be the one who wanders
into that far off clockless room
mixing up me for him
my room for his
and she said
‘You’re in the wrong parlor
funerals for engineers are held in Room ‘B’
you’re in A
Harold was a dentist
maxillofacial & corrective jaw surgery
rhinoplasty and oculoplastics’
so that poem was wrong about death
it separates us
me in my room
Harold in his with
that glorious, corrected smile
then I noticed
a Bulova on her wrist
it said dinnertime
so I went home
- Paul Smith